Diminished Intelligence

I love writing. I always dreamed to be a writer, in fact I secretly aspire to write a book about my inner discoveries from my dare to be an angel journey which I have been dilligently documenting on my dare to be an angel website. However who am I fooling I don't know shit about writing a book or anything. I am a mom now and any literary knowledge I had in from those prehistorical years of college was wiped out with my first child with the complexity of my sentences reduced to......."Gotta go potty?"

In high school I was in AP English and could dissect and analyze any great author with eloquence and references to dialogue and a vocabulary only a literary agent would appreciate. I entered college as a journalism major with dreams of seeing my name in a New York Times byline........scholarships, dreams reaching beyond the moon and the stars,.....then I stepped out to "find myself" only to discover several years later.......I hadn't "found" anything other than the fact that waitressing as a career is no career.......and reality is a bludgeoning reality.The realization of my literary banishment came when i was on the phone with a friend and told her goodnight via "gotta go nite nite". Sentences with words more than two sylables had vanquished from my vocabulary running to high ground hoping to be saved but with no reinforcement other than the techno garb from my IT position.......my vocabulary was doomed.

How can I hope to write anymore when my word of the day is my child's spelling list?

I even became more disillusioned when reviewing my 5th grader's English homework. I no longer recall the distinction between a simile and a metaphor. I can read a book and appreciate it all, but label anything? NO.

Slipping down the drain..........to single mom illiteracy

Single in a Check Out Lane

This is an old post of mine but a favorite so I thought I would add it here

Recently I saw a really cute movie called "Must Love Dogs." It was a movie about a divorced woman who's family decided to get involved in her newly single life and get her into the dating scene. Being divorced I found myself cracking up numerous times throughout. The poor woman ends up answering a dating ad only to find she was answering her father's ad.

However one of the funniest side scenes was when she was in the grocery store picking up her few items. She goes to the deli and asks the man behind the counter for a chicken breast. He then tries to tell her about all of the specials, recepies, and keeps pushing when she insists on just one chicken breast. Finally frustrated, she snaps at him that she is divorced... lives alone...eats at the counter standing up... and doesn't want a bunch of extra chicken hanging around....and just would like to have her ONE chicken breast.

I had to laugh, because ....that is indeed how a person living alone again feels. They don't want tons of extra food around. When you buy a pack of chicken breasts, unless you freeze it, you know what your dinner will be for the next several evenings. No, I don't eat at the counter standing up.... but rarely do I sit at the table for my meal. My table seats 8 so I would feel rather silly and pitiful doing that every night. Eating while watching the evening news is a little more my style.

Tonight I had to drop by the grocery store after work to pick up a few things. I of course grabbed one of those new mini carts I think they designed just for the divorced and single. The little carts you can push around but you can feel like a "big" person because you are pushing a cart and its size creates the illusion that you are "filling" it like a regular cart although it truthfully holds littlle more than a hand basket. So I quickly ran down the few aisles I needed to in order to pick up my items, then got in the express lane.

Of course I took a quick peek at the headlines on the gossip magazines. I admit I am a headline gossip reader. I would never buy the Star or Enquirer, but I sure can read through the headlines fast, and if no one is looking or the line is exceptionally slow...I will do the quick speed gossip scan by a fast page flip technique.

Next I did what I often do. I can't help it, I often look at what the people in front of me are purchasing. It is almost like sometimes what people are purchasing is a little peek into who they are. (don't tell me you don't do the same). Sometimes I try to figure out what they are having for dinner, sometimes I look at what they are buying and try to figure out if it is for a cookout or do they have a big family that truly drinks all that soda. Just simple thoughts.

I then looked at my groceries as they sat on the conveyor belt behind the bar separator. I about choked when I realized what my groceries yelled out. I will let you figure it out by listing my groceries.

• 9 cans of Friskies cat food
• 2 lean cuisines
• 1/2 gallon of half & half (yes I am a coffee fanatic)
• lightbulbs
• cheap bubblebath

Yup my groceries yelled loudly that I am single and probably divorced. That I have evolved to that just me and the cat thing, with the most exciting part of my evenings being a bubble bath. All I needed to go along with it was a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream!

But I suppose it does prove my grocery reading as insight to be pretty true. For tonight... I came home,fed the cat, fixed a lean cuisine, changed a lightbulb that blew, and I plan on having a wild evening of a bubble bath!

So yes it was scary seeing what my groceries spoke about me.... but even scarier to see that .... it fit!

Visit to the Stirrups

Last night I went to the appointment all women adore going to………
the dreaded gyno visit.

We hate these visits as it is so we get to spend our entire day projecting about the wonderful visit. Luckily my appointment was in the evening after work. Of course that meant me rushing home to jump in the shower and inspecting every part of my body before heading off. Was eating dinner important? Of course not. Knowing I would have myself being inspected by a Dr and another complimental stranger (the assigned nurse) was where the focus laid. Thus I hurried and made myself as squeaky clean as possible.

Oh…..although we always carefully fold our clothes when we strip and hide our more “private” clothing such that they are not visible……picking the nicest undergarments is always of importance for such an appointment. Every woman hears in the back of her mind that old wives rant about good underwear and never getting caught with ummmm embarrassing wholey underwear. Thus one has to pick. No we can’t pick the granny panties……makes us too old……..can’t pick that thong……makes us look too promiscuous. Ok we will pick the typical Hanes Women………all american generic.(aren’t we women silly?)

So I get to my appointment.

I get called back. The first thing…….the very first thing they do is have you get on the scale. Of course I am still wearing my jacket…..and holding my purse……. so of course although they weigh me in at one weight………my jacket …clothes and purse have to at least weigh……30lbs right?

Well I want to know what has happened in the gyno attire recently. The nurse put me in the room, took my blood pressure and all that. Then handed me a folded piece of paper. She said “change into this front opening….. and put blanket (pointing to another sheet of paper) over your legs” I was left with mouth open still attempting to make logic of what she said. Put what on? She gave me a sheet of paper.

I investigated it further. It wasn’t a piece of paper it was I suppose what one would call a top made out of Bounty paper towels. And very little at that. The cheap generic brand I use at home would wipe up more of a coffee stain than this would. I used to dread the cloth tops they had us wear….. you know the ones……..the blue overly washed…….holey…….straps missing tops. At least they were tops! I was afraid to tear this as I put it on, and I kept having images of the Bounty man flashing across my mind. Oh but I did have the wonderful Bounty Blanket to fold across my legs.

Well I won’t bore you with the rest of my visit……….it was COLD POKEY and a lot of listening to “Relax” while a popsicle was put privately.

But I do wish……. that we could return to old holey strapless covers rather than being human rolls of papertowels. These annual visits are traumatic enough without Bounty. I mean……… goodness I went through that whole pre-visit picking my undies so well …at least maybe the floral Bounty?

Welcome

Yes I have grabbed a corner of this internet world to put down my own ramblings, thoughts, memories and perhaps at times even rantings. I read somewhere recently that in a few years, a blog address will be as common place as an email address. Since I already have multiple email addresses I figure it is time for me to start collecting my blogging addresses as well. It isn't as if I have so many work/online/personal accounts that yet one more username and password would make a difference. Although I must admit I am rather irked regarding a few accounts that I no longer can access because I have forgotten the particulars and my choice in "hints" were obviously only apparent to me at the moment I created them.

Thus here I am...grabbing my new blog...not even certain what I will put here yet.